Work Text:
“Hansol Vernon Chwe if I have to tell you one more time that you are, in fact, not on MasterChef I'll kick your ass out of the kitchen!”
Seungkwan didn't want to be rude, but this is the third time in ten minutes he's caught his boyfriend trying to cut vegetables like a pro, which he definitely is not. Hansol is virtually inept when it comes to things of domesticity. Seungkwan has managed to teach him how to do laundry, but not much else.
“Sorry babe, you know how I am.”
And of course Seungkwan knows. He knows that Hansol makes competitions out of the smallest things (chopping mushrooms included). He knows that the little sheepish laugh at the end of his statement means he's nervous. Hansol is like an open book to the older boy, much to his dismay.
“I don't see why you're so nervous Hansol. Honestly, what's the worst that could happen? It's only your parents.” Seungkwan moves from the stove to the fridge, pausing to press a comforting kiss to the fabric of his lover's shoulder.
Hansol isn't sure how to explain his nerves at this point. Yes it's only his parents and yes they've met Seungkwan before, but this feels different somehow. He isn't sure why a sense of dread is filing his stomach thinking about this. He mumbles something about going to finish straightening up and exits the kitchen before Seungkwan can pester him further.
The living room of the apartment is spotless, mainly due to Seungkwan’s nonstop bustling around all day. Hansol eyes his surroundings and feels a small sense of comfort. What could his parents say? That they aren't happy with the life he's created for himself and the love of his life?
Hansol works as head software designer and media consultant at his friend Seungcheol's global phenomenon of a company (he probably wouldn't be so high up if the CEO didn't have a soft spot for him). He makes top dollar, plenty enough to support him and his partner more than comfortably (but Seungkwan hates being taken care of so he sometimes works as a personal shopper for some pretty influential people). This apartment is the first large purchase they've made as a couple, and Seungkwan is eager to show it off to his parent in-laws.
A week prior, when Hansol walked in from basketball with friends from work, he caught the end of Seungkwan’s phone conversation. Something about “next Friday” and “any allergies” before Seungkwan said a “love you too” and hung up. He informed Hansol that his parents would be coming to see their new home. Hansol had to drop onto the nearby couch to ease his immediate headache.
Waiting for the water to start boiling for the pasta, Seungkwan exits the kitchen to make sure everything is in order. His eyes land on Hansol who is staring blankly at the small stack of books on the coffee table.
“Sorry I pushed away your worries.” Seungkwan wraps his arms around the slightly taller boy’s middle in a back hug, his head resting against his shoulder.
“Huh? Uh, yeah it's fine. I know you didn't mean it like that.”
Hansol loosens at the feeling of Seungkwan’s warm breath travelling through his shirt and onto his skin. He's always so good at comforting him. Hansol turns and cups Seungkwan’s face in his hands. He admires every inch of his face for what it is, beautiful.
“Can we talk? Like about tonight?” Hansol has never been good with opening up, but the small smile that graces Seungkwan’s features pushes him forward.
They sit on the couch, Seungkwan placing a comforting hand on Hansol's thigh (which he loves oh so much, but now isn't the time for these things) that is shaking from his nerves. He smiles and waits patiently for Hansol to gather his thoughts.
“Okay so I just want to clarify that I'm not mad that you invited my parents over for dinner, but a little heads up could have helped.”
“Noted. I'll make sure to consult you first next time.”
Hansol smiles shyly and lets out a shaky breath. He's not sure why it's so hard for him to spit this shit out already. He laces his hand with Seungkwan’s, who's thumb immediately moves to make comforting circles around his knuckles.
“I'm not sure if this will come out as clearly as I'd like it too, but I'm going to try. This is our apartment. It's actually ours. Every other time it was my place or yours, but not anymore. This is like the first big leap we've taken into actual full-blown adulthood and it's terrifying. What if my parents tell me I'm doing everything wrong? That my first real decision as an adult isn't right?”
Seungkwan never really realized just how much Hansol cares about his parents approval until now. He always did his own thing so freely. Hell, the day he introduced Seungkwan to them he’d said “I'm in love with him and if you have anything negative to say I'll walk out that door.” Which at the time horrified Seungkwan because he wanted to make a good first impression.
“Your parents love you so much, and from what I can tell they care about me as well. I think they'll be proud of us, you especially. Besides, what if they do talk shit about our apartment? You gonna pack up and leave me here?”
Hansol's eyes widened in horror, he obviously hadn't noted the sarcasm in Seungkwan statement.
“Of course not!”
Seungkwan chuckled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Hansol’s mouth. The younger’s cheeks flare almost instantly. You’d think he'd be used to it after so many years, but he can't help it.
“I was being sarcastic, I know you'd never leave me. How about you come back to the kitchen and help me finish dinner? You can play MasterChef all you want this time.”
Hansol smiles and pulls Seungwan close to him, pressing his mouth against his. The kiss is chaste and sweet, exactly what Hansol needs to finish off his previous nerves.
“I think I'll slow it down this time. I like having all ten fingers.” Hansol moves one of his thumbs across Seungkwan’s cheekbone.
“I like you having all of your fingers too.”
“Oh, I know.” Hansol raises an eyebrow and cups Seungkwan’s chin in his fingers, kissing him in a manner far more precarious than before.
Seungkwan stands quickly, noting the way his head swims from Hansol's contact. He clears his throat and turns toward the kitchen.
“The water is probably boiling.” He walks through the doorway, disappearing from his lover's eyes.
Hansol stands and follows, grabbing the knife and a carrot to start working on. He's not sure why he was ever worried. He adores spending his not-so-perfect life with such an oh-so-perfect person. How could anyone not approve of this?